The thinker gains a lot by choosing, as Nietzsche and Cioran did, to build a fragmentary work. Letting go of the presumptuous and counterproductive delirium of attainable unity, i.e., of supposedly attainable perfection, the thinker can concentrate on conferring precision and potency to small fragments. Moreover, the superiority of a collection of aphorisms over an essay is indisputable: the latter hardly ever justifies rereading; the former’s innate multiplicity makes complete assimilation impossible all at once. Furthermore: building in fragments makes it possible to precisely settle the disparate and complicated mental movements, while developing and deepening a single reasoning certainly imposes a limit—that is, it forces the mind to dismiss a large part of its manifestations.
Tag: philosophy
An Honorable Man, Aware of His Own Dignity
An honorable man, aware of his own dignity, if convinced politely and respectfully that a certain action is good and just, will willingly perform it, and be grateful for the advice. If, on the other hand, this same honorable man is ordered to perform a certain action under threat of punishment, he will react by instinct, driven by his own honor, in a manner contrary to the disrespectful one who threatened him. From this the natural conclusion: orders and threats are offenses to anyone who has a sense of dignity.
Old Age, Disease and Death…
Old age, disease, and death; old age, disease, and death: the obsessions that paved the Buddha’s path to “enlightenment.” More than open eyes, it takes courage to confront them. Buddha understood that thought is worth nothing if it does not incur in action: from reasoning, he drew philosophy, and philosophy guided his conduct. Old age, disease, and death: everything that lives is condemned to torment, exhaustion, and suppression. The mind always wants to deceive itself; so let it suffer, let it daily embitter the conclusions of its judgment, until it has all to the last illusion torn from it! And thus, teaches the shrewd and enlightened psychologist, one escapes from the evil cycle that always results in suffering and destruction.
Notebooks, by Emil Cioran
My dear Emil Cioran said, in these Notebooks,—published posthumously,—that what left of a thinker is his temperament. What a beautiful observation! And I notice that, when I think of Cioran, what I remember is exactly his temperament. Impossible not to smile. In these Notebooks, where the human dimension of a philosopher who conceded several of his best pages to pessimism—or who, as Fernando Savater said, had the vocation of a heretic—are exposed practically all the scenes that come to my mind when I think of Cioran. There are almost a thousand pages that endow his work with a very rare coloring: it is the philosopher writing to himself, on one page, commenting on Buddha and Jesus Christ, on another, accesses of rage he has experienced in grocery stores, or unusual situations he has lived through. How can one not smile when seeing a wise man, after some editor rejects a preface on Valéry that cost him long hours of work, exclaiming to himself “I will have my revenge!”; or when seeing an athlete say that, returning from a twenty-kilometer walk, a girl offered him a seat on the train; or even, when seeing a master of sarcasm relate that, while talking to Jean-Paul Sartre, he heard from the Frenchman that his “Romanian grammar” was very good… I think of Cioran and what I remember from him is the supreme humor, which stands out above all his other intellectual qualities. Cioran, perhaps my favorite friend to accompany me through the darkness of thought, is also one of those who can most easily bring a smile to my face.